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Ambling out of the bedroom, I see August lounging on the couch, sipping from a cup of coffee, talking quietly with Thomas and Lisa. He looks lusciously rumpled and I tug the sweatshirt down a little lower to hide my growing erection.
“Hey,” I say, and my voice sounds like I swallowed gravel.
That’s what I get for crying. It seems that’s all I do now.
“Hey,” August says, and he stands and grabs a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around me, and guiding me to sit. Lisa watches it all, confusion in her gaze. I feel a pang of guilt because August should have just told her. She has to be suspicious now. Her son is doting on me like I’m his precious girlfriend.
“I’ll make you a coffee,” he says and I curl up in the spot he was just in, feeling the warmth of his body radiating from the cushions.
“Lots of sugar, please.”
“Nope, just a little.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” I mutter, and he smiles at me.
Okay, yeah, he can so be the boss of me anytime.
When he disappears into the kitchen, Lisa cocks her head at me, and I just smile at her softly.
“He can’t help himself,” I whisper.
Her furrowed brows straighten, and she nods, a smile lifting her lips. “Yeah. I know.”
“He just feels a little protective ever since we got stranded.”
Lisa nods and then tugs on her ponytail. “He’s always been like that. He has a big heart.”
God, don’t I know it.
A moment later, August reappears holding a mug and my insulin bag in his hands and he plops down next to me. Much too close. His thigh brushes against my legs and his arm is pressed against mine.
Not that I’m complaining, but I am tempted to crawl onto his lap. It’s very,verytempting.
“I added a little extra sugar,” he says with a small smile as he hands me the cup and my insulin. I test it, eyeing him over the rim.
“Hm. Not bad. Could use more though. Next time, when you think,this is enough,add double that.”
“I don’t want you in a coma,” he chuckles and then pulls his gaze away from mine. I miss it immediately.
Thomas clears his throat and I move my eyes to my dad. He shifts on his seat and holds up a few sheets of paper.
“I uh, got the paperwork filled out for the restraining order. I just need your signature and then we can get it processed with the court.”
I nod and gulp down some more coffee. It burns my throat and I wince.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, take care of it for you and I’ll find out what she wants. She won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it,” Thomas mutters and then reaches down and grabs onto a box. “But onto better news, your pump and glucose monitor are here. I made an appointment with Dr. Bidhan next Tuesday to go over it all with you. That is…you know, if you want to. You can of course make your own appointment….”
“No that works. I’ll be there,” I interrupt and then add, “Thanks for doing that.”
Thomas rubs his hands on his thighs and nods. “Good. Good. And no problem. August was right, I should have done this years ago. I was remiss and I apologize, Emery.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper and August clears his throat. I eye him because even though he’s never admitted it, I know he’s the reason behind all of this. Sweet, thoughtful bastard couldn’t help himself.
We’re silent for a moment and I lean closer into August but he still feels too far away.
Oh, fuck it.
